


run until you feel your lungs bleeding (run me to belize)

by cptsuke



Category: Animal Kingdom (TV)
Genre: M/M, pre-belize
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 22:39:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19473661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cptsuke/pseuds/cptsuke
Summary: Adrian doesn't see him to start with -  he's sitting so still – holed up in the dark of the porch of the house Adrian shares with a couple of guys.Out the window he sees a shadow out of place and a second closer look reveals Deran curled in on himself jammed up against wall and railing, staring out past his knees into the inky nothingness of night.the night before they start heading towards belize





	run until you feel your lungs bleeding (run me to belize)

**Author's Note:**

> i havent written anything in almost two years and here i am with my clownshoes on for these boys

It's been awhile since Adrian's seen Deran proper, other than glimpses of a shape – standing lone on the shore or in the waves away from the crowds – barely recognizable from the skinny kid that had been let away in cuffs 6 months ago. The few times they've crossed paths they've barely spoken past friendly grunts, meaningless surf reports and the occasional blowjob if the beach was quiet and the toilets empty.

Adrian doesn't see him to start with - he's sitting so still – holed up in the dark of the porch of the house Adrian shares with a couple of guys.

Out the window he sees a shadow out of place and a second closer look reveals Deran curled in on himself jammed up against wall and railing, staring out past his knees into the inky nothingness of night.

“Deran?” Adrian calls his name softly, almost disbelieving, but he doesn't move even as Adrian lets himself outside and comes closer.

He wants to ask a _re you okay,_ _h_ _ow are you,_ _w_ _hy didn't come see me sooner,_ but the words die in his throat at the sight of Deran chewing on the side of his lip.

“What you doing here, man?”

Deran finally - _finally –_ looks up, drags dead looking eyes away from the night, swallows, gulping a gasp of air, throat working as his teeth tear bloody strips from his bottom lip. “I. Can. I don't. I wanna,”

“Hey” Adrian's on his knees in front of Deran before he even registers he's moving, taking his face in his hands, thumb brushing his lip before blood starts dribbling down his chin.

Adrian's never been a question asker. In his stupid youth when they'd been knock kneed kids with growing pains and chips on their shoulders he'd prided himself on that.

Adrian didn't ask questions. Adrian didn't need to. He wouldn't be – couldn't be – one more person demanding something Deran couldn't give.

It's not til he was older that he thinks maybe he should've asked _some_ questions. Not about the family, not about _Cody_ business. But maybe he should have asked about the days Deran's shoulders curved inwards, the days he'd snipe and snark at teachers til they'd be screaming back, dragging him from the classrooms with hard fingers, the days he chainsmokes beneath the pier the sour look on his face keeping even the most foolhardy away.

With hair that has no right being this soft between his fingers Adrian tries not to think about how he maybe loves him. In a dark place deep in his chest Adrian keeps it secret because he doesn't know what would happen if Deran ever found out.

“What do you need?”

Deran blinks watery red rimmed eyes at him, draws a breath like it hurts.

“I gotta get out of here, I gotta, I can't. Can we just go somewhere? Just drive?”

There's a thousand things Adrian has to do; he has his job – a seemingly never ending pile of surfboards that need mending - and the pickup classes he's trying to stop skipping, he's still surfing more often than not but he's not eighteen any more and he's trying to build his life better around the responsibilities of growing up.

Adrian must take too long to answer because Deran stiffens beside him, pulling back, suddenly animated as he pushes up and away, stalking to the edge of the porch on unsteady legs. He sniffs loudly rubbing the tip of his nose with a rough swipe of his sleeve.

“Don't worry about it, man.” He says, pacing the porch like he's psyching himself up for a fight, then he turns and looks down at Adrian still half crouched in the dark, his face morphing from it's intense eyed look to something that's supposed to be a smile pasted over top. It doesn't last long, his hands rub down over it like he knows how fake it looks before lacing behind his head and he steps off the porch.

“Deran.” Adrian calls.

“Forget it, I'll,” Deran's teeth are back at his bottom lip as he turns, lifting a hand in farewell. “I'll see you 'round.”

And Adrian is left in the dark watching the glow Deran's pale gray shirt slowly disappear into the night's gloom wishing he could find the right words to call out.

In the morning he's woken to the horn of a car and a handful of his friends - guys he knows around town, guys he sees surfing – shouting and horsing around the street outside at six in the goddamn morning.

“Adriaaaan!”

They're all hopped up and excited in the way only boys with stupid ideas and the means to see them through could get. All of them talking over each other about how they're going on a roadtrip, heading south until circumstance or lack of funds turned them back.

“Surf every beach between here and wherever we end up.” One of them crows what must be the fifteenth time since Adrian foolishly opened his door.

Bag haphazardly packed and slung over a shoulder he lets himself be all but carried out of the house to the car where Deran is leaning against the outside smoking and looking unaffected, a practiced cool like this was all just happening around him and had nothing to do with him.

He looks like something else in the soft golden light of sunrise and Adrian tries to pretend the sight doesn't wind him.

“This your idea?” Adrian asks, a slow smile for the tough guy untouchable persona he's putting on.

Deran just squints into the rising sun, a half smirk hiding behind his cigarette, his head cocking towards the car.

“You comin?”


End file.
